


...unbartered for a calf of gold

by Ereini0n



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 06:00:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5237012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ereini0n/pseuds/Ereini0n
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One friendship, two scenes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	...unbartered for a calf of gold

**Author's Note:**

> This wee thing, written for the 'Logic & Philosophy Week' on tumblr, acts as a prequel for my two 'The Amis as presenters of a whistleblower TV program' headcanon posts:
> 
>  
> 
> [the headcanon](http://ereini0n.tumblr.com/post/105264523372/heres-something-ive-been-thinking-about-for-a)
> 
>  
> 
> [the fancast](http://ereini0n.tumblr.com/post/125256768262/bonus-cosette-marius-and-heres-my-fancast-for)

“Anything interesting?”  
“Nothing much”, Courfeyrac’s reply was accompanied by an exaggerate stretch and a theatrical yawn. “Golan and I got jumped by some suspicious characters about an hour ago. Took care of them. Rather heroically, even.” A nudge in the ribs seemed to invite Combeferre into a conspiracy. “I see some medals on the horizon!”  
Combeferre glanced at Enjolras, standing quietly at his side. By the slightly vacant look in his eyes, he didn’t believe Courfeyrac’s story anymore than Combeferre did.  
“We’ll eagerly await the CO’s announcement. Go get some sleep, we’ll see you in the morning.”  
With a mock salute for Combeferre, and a nod for Enjolras, Courfeyrac left in the direction of the tents.  
We’ve only known each other for a week, thought Combeferre, feels like forever.  
Which could hardly be said about his partner for tonight’s watch.  
Quiet and serious, Enjolras wasn’t one for small talk. Or any talk.  
Preparing to spend his watch in silence, Combeferre turned toward the other soldier.  
“Medals”, said Enjolras. And smiled. Combeferre smiled back.

* * *

“…и понял - сосиски в тесте!”, finished Grantaire with a flourish, to the enthusiastic applause from Prouvaire and Marius, and indulgent smiles from everyone else.  
“Must be a very amusing joke”, murmured Enjolras to Combeferre, on the opposite side of the long table.  
“It should be - poor Marius seems to be crying”.  
Combeferre rather envied Marius and Prouvaire their quick grasp of modern foreign languages. His brain, while easily absorbing every new scientific fact or historical trivia, rejected any language younger than 3,000 years.

A beep from a cellphone interrupted his musings. Enjolras unlocked his phone and read the message. A faint line appeared between his eyebrows. Combeferre suppressed the urge to read over his shoulder.  
But then there was no need - Enjolras put his phone, screen down, on the table, took a sip of his water, and turned to Combeferre.  
“That meeting I attended a month ago.”  
“With the upper floor.”  
A nod. The phone was lifted off the table and stuck under Combeferre’s nose:

“You’re coming with me, right?” Enjolras asked, quietly. Nervously, Combeferre was surprised to notice. As if he didn’t know, as if he doubted…  
“Of course I am. They all will, you’ll see. We’ll make it the most popular show of the channel. It’ll be raining awards!”  
Combeferre lifted his beer glass off the table. Enjolras clicked his own glass against his friend’s.  
“Awards”, repeated Enjolras. And smiled. Combeferre smiled back.


End file.
